


The Boy in the Alley

by Cyborgtamaki



Category: Death Note
Genre: Angst, Implied Relationships, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 15:40:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9079054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyborgtamaki/pseuds/Cyborgtamaki
Summary: I wrote this a few months ago with the sole purpose of making my friend cry. I then found it the other day and it made me cry. So please tell me if this made you cry as well!





	

Matt ran towards the alley Mello had disappeared into. He had heard the single gunshot. He hadn't thought anything of it until he remembered. Mello’s gun. He had left it with Matt. Matt skidded through the mud and into the alley. A figure slipped away at the other end. A dark pool surrounded another figure, lying in the dirt. Blonde hair fanned out like a halo, its light colour marred by the mud, turning it near black. The leather, usually kept spotless, was ruined. Blue eyes stared up from a pale face, not seeing the sky that they should. Not seeing how the sun was slowly setting, staining the sky red. Not seeing Matt stumble and fall to his knees. Blood seeped into his jeans.

He could barely look at wound. Blood pooled in the hole in the centre of his forehead. It trickled out of his mouth, down his neck. The flesh around the hole was ragged and torn. Matt could just see a speck of silver, the bullet. The blood was overflowing, dripping down his face. His lips were red as though he had on lipstick. The colour would’ve suited him in any other situation. The gun lay nearby; it looked like a run of the mill suicide. Just another dead boy in the street. The edges of Mello’s body blurred from the tears in Matt's eyes. He was gone. Forever.

 

* * *

 

The casket was open. It had been ruled a suicide, just like Matt thought. Someone had cleaned away the blood. The wound looked like a black hole, sucking in all the light. It was too small, too small to have killed him. Mello had been shot hundreds of times, they were like paper cuts to him. He should've died in a way he deserved, not in some back alley with no one but his killer there. People came up to the coffin, saying a couple words. No one cried. They were all Mafia members, they probably had had their tear ducts removed. Near was there. He put a bar of chocolate in the coffin, and a sock puppet that looked like Mello. Then he left, walked out just like that. He hadn't spoken to Matt, not a word. He knew Matt didn't want to talk.

Matt waited for everyone to leave. Then he walked up to the casket, hesitantly. He wanted to see Mello, not a body. He didn't want to see his blue eyes, colder than even his worst glare. He didn't want to see his blonde hair straight and smoothed down, the way he always tried but failed to get it to do. He didn't want to see the suit he was buried in, he wouldn't look the same without his leather.He wanted to see him lying in the bed next to him. He wanted to see his chest rising and falling. He wanted to see a piece of chocolate in his mouth. He wanted to see that determined smirk on his face. He wanted to see Mello, alive. And he couldn’t. All he will see is Mello’s dead body in a casket. And then all he will see is a headstone with a name and a date. Thats all that will be left. A stone in a graveyard and a handful of memories.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a few months ago with the sole purpose of making my friend cry. I then found it the other day and it made me cry. So please tell me if this made you cry as well!


End file.
